


Bittersweet

by Kevy_Grayce



Series: One Shots [1]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Dr. Strange helps, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Endgame Fix-It, F/M, FUCK endgame, Fix-It, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Family, Irondad, Magic, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is a Genius, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Canon Fix-It, Science Fiction, Spells & Enchantments, Tony Stark Lives, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark deserves a happy ending, revival, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 05:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18866341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kevy_Grayce/pseuds/Kevy_Grayce
Summary: Even when the universe wins, Peter Parker loses.(Contrary to the summary, this is in fact an Endgame fix-it fic)





	Bittersweet

**Author's Note:**

> How do I cope? This is how I cope.
> 
> Enjoy this culmination of sadness and joy as Peter works himself into the ground to get Tony back. This is how I'm surviving what happened in Endgame, and I hope it brings you a bit of happiness in these trying times :) Enjoy!
> 
> -Kevy

Peter Parker was four years old when his parents left and never came back. Peter Parker was fourteen when his Uncle Ben bled out in his arms. Peter Parker was sixteen when he faded out of existence on a foreign planet billions of lightyears away from home. Peter Parker was sixteen when he was rocketed back into battle, five years later, only to watch his father-figure sacrifice himself for the lives of all living creatures. He watched the life leave Tony’s eyes…and there wasn't anything he could do to stop it. Peter Parker couldn't help. Neither could Spider-Man. An unfathomable amount of lives were saved, but Tony was gone. His friend. His mentor. His father-figure.

Even when the universe wins, Peter Parker loses.

It’s only been a few days. He’s supposed to start school soon, which will help him take his mind off things. When he got back from the second battle against Thanos, a name that he still can't even bear to say out loud, he had tried to start school with Ned and MJ. It was too soon, especially when all the other students just wanted to talk about the “dusted” and the death of Iron Man. They don't understand…no one at school does. The world may have lost Iron Man, but he lost Tony.

No matter what he does, he can't stop thinking about it. May helps him cope by distracting him, but after the snap medical professionals are needed more than ever. Peter doesn't want to be selfish, so he encourages her to go back to work at the ER. That leaves him alone at the apartment, too raw with emotion to dawn the suit that Tony had personally made him. Instead of sulking around all day, he decides to take Happy up on an offer the man had given at…Tony’s funeral.

****

**_Happy_ **

Peter: _Hey Happy, that offer still up for grabs?_

****

He remembers the days when he would go months without a single word from Happy. Countless texts unanswered for as long as he could scroll. Today, the response is almost immediate.

****

Happy: _Of course. Need a ride?_

Peter: _its okay, thank you tho_

Happy: _No problem. Friday will let you in._

Happy: _Let me know when you're here, I’ll be around. Be careful around the construction._

Peter: _sure thing, thanks Happy_

****

With a deep, steadying breath, Peter pockets his phone before standing to stretch out his stiff muscles. As he stretches his arms above his head, his eyes wander to the closet. A glimpse of red fabric can be seen peeking out from underneath a pile of unfolded laundry. His eyes lock onto it and he briefly considers swinging to the Compound, then quickly decides against it. He’ll take the subway.

The walk is supposed to take no more than fifteen minutes, but he keeps his head low, his earbuds in, and gets lost in the music. He wants to drown out the world. All he can do is keep his eyes lowered as he passes a magazine stand with Tony’s face plastered on every cover. Somehow, he manages to push down his anger at businesses profiting off the death of a hero.

As soon as he reaches the subway, he wishes he had just taken the suit. The concrete walls are covered in graffiti of both Iron Man and Tony. From Iron Man helmets to Tony’s face looking off into the distance to full on murals titled with the sprayed words “Earth’s Best Defender.” Peter grits his teeth to not be brought to tears. When he steps on the rickety, somewhat crowded subway, he prepares himself for a long ride.

Since the Compound is upstate, it takes a bit of time to get there. He keeps himself preoccupied with his phone and music, but near the end of the ride his phone buzzes in his hand. He half expects to see a text from Ned or May, but isn't surprised to see one from Pepper.

****

**_Mrs. Potts_ **

Pepper: _peter wen are you coming too wach moveys_

Pepper: _mommy says we canhass juce pops_

Pepper: _an uncl happy says we gt chesburgrs to_

****

A slight, barely noticeable smile makes its way onto Peter’s face without him realizing it. Morgan tends to steal Pepper’s phone to sneak texts to him, but Pepper eventually catches her in the act. Peter, of course, loves the texts. Almost as if on cue, Peter’s phone starts to ring with Pepper’s contact lit up on the screen. Peter chuckles and answers without hesitation.

“I told you, it doesn't matter where you put it or what passcode you use, she’ll find a way,” he reminds in a teasing tone.

“Oh yeah, sure Mr. Know-It-All,” Pepper fires right back. “I don't know how she does it, but she manages to get it every single time.” Peter hears her laugh on the other end accompanied by Morgan’s distant voice.

“I wanna thay hi!” the toddler yells excitedly, her slight lisp showing.

“What do we say?” Pepper asks in a parental tone. Good parents learn to teach life lessons on the go.

“Pleeeaaathe,” Morgan adds, drawing out the word dramatically. There’s silence over the phone for a few seconds, then Peter hears a small voice. “Hi, Peter,” Morgan whispers, followed by a giggle.

“Oh my goodness, I know that voice,” Peter whispers back and tries to add as much flexion as he can into his voice.

“It’s me!” Morgan exclaims between fits of laughter.

“Do you happen to know where Morgan is? I heard she wanted to watch movies and eat cheeseburgers. Too bad I just can't find her.” Peter feigns exasperation and sighs loudly for added effect.

“I'm Morgan!” the little girl shouts again with a wide, genuine smile. She bounces on her tiptoes with enthusiasm. Pepper sits nearby, loving how happy Morgan is when she talks to Peter.

“What?! No way! You sound so grown up, I didn't recognize you!” Peter hasn't known Morgan for that long, but he sees so much of Tony in her. He would've loved to be there for the first five years of her life, but what’s important is that he’ll be there for the rest of it. Thanks to Tony.

“When you coming back?” Morgan asks hopefully. Peter’s heart aches and for some reason he has to blink away unshed tears.

“As soon as I can, I promise. And we’re gonna have the best time ever, okay?”

“M’kay,” Morgan easily agrees. Peter quickly clears his throat to keep his tone upbeat for her.

“Awesome! How about I talk to your mom so we can set that up?” he offers.

“M’kay!” As Morgan enthusiastically hands the phone to Pepper, Peter can hear her shoes tap against the floor before Pepper speaks.

“Hi, Peter,” she greets, the smile evident in her voice. “What’d you promise this time?

“Hey, Mrs. Po- Stark,” he quickly corrects. He still needs to change her contact name, but hasn't gotten around to it. “Y’know, the usual; a movie, juice pops, and cheeseburgers.” He chuckles and does his best to talk over the mild chatter as well as the ruckus of the subway as it speeds them towards their destination.

“She’s such a moocher. Demands everything she wants just because she knows how cute she is,” Pepper says pointedly as she tickles Morgan’s sides with her free hand, causing the young girl to laugh. “She got that from her Daddy.” Peter presses his lips together, desperately trying not to lose it. “Off you go, little monster. I need to talk to Peter.” Little footsteps are heard on the other end before he hears Pepper’s quiet sniff. “Sorry about her impromptu texts.”

“No, no, don't apologize. I love it, she's great.” Peter smiles to himself. He has to concentrate on not bending the vertical pole anchored between the floor and the ceiling gripped in his hand. _Stanchion,_ he notes in his head, _what a strange name for a pole._

“Don't worry, she thinks you’re just as great,” Pepper assures in amusement. “How are you holding up, kid?” she asks in a much more gentle, somber tone. Hearing the nickname is like a stab to Peter’s heart.

“I should be asking you that,” Peter counters with a laugh in an attempt to break the sudden tension. He knows he failed when the laugh doesn't have any happiness behind it. Everything feels fake nowadays.

“I have to be strong for Morgan, so I’m coping. It’s hard. It’s still fresh, but I knew it would happen eventually,” Pepper admits, her eyes glossy. “I just hope I did a good job comforting him as he went. That he felt reassured. I miss him every single second of every single day.” She nods to herself, wiping her now damp cheeks. Peter takes a deep, shaky breath through his nose.

“You’re one of the strongest people I know, Mrs. Stark,” he reassures wholeheartedly. “I know exactly how you feel, how much it hurts. I promise you it gets easier. Not today or tomorrow, but it does over time, y’know? You’re a great mom and Morgan’s gonna grow up to be an amazing person because of you. If anyone can do it, it’s you. And you have a family of people who will be there to help you.” He tries his best to explain how he felt during his own grieving processes. Too many. Hopefully, it makes sense. Pepper chuckles lightly and wipes her tears.

“You shouldn't have to know what it’s like, sweetheart,” she says genuinely. “And call me ‘Mrs.’ one more time and I’m calling your aunt to reprimand you.” Peter openly smiles at her teasing.

“Sorry, Pepper. Force of habit.”

“You were raised with wonderful manners,” Pepper compliments. “So, how’s my favorite friendly, neighborhood vigilante?” she asks with a smirk, crossing her legs.

“Oh, y’know, changing the world one bicycle theft at a time,” Peter answers sarcastically. The one chance he got at doing something more, he feels like he screwed up. “Hoping to start school soon, that way I can take my mind off of space and things. Patrol’s been a good distraction. It’s just that he’s…”

“Everywhere. I know,” Pepper supplies for him. “I can't turn on the damn TV without seeing him.” She chuckles, but there isn't any humor in it. Their conversation goes silent. They know exactly what the other is going through. “Peter, it’s okay to talk about what you're feeling,” Pepper finally prompts, sensing his hesitation. Peter bites the inside of his cheek and debates on talking about it.

“Is it…” he starts, but stalls to rethink his words, “is it bad that I wish it were still me? Gone, I mean.” His eyes fill with tears that don't spill over. “Like, I know it’s stupid and, and selfish but that's how I'm feeling. I, I just…I’ve lost so many people that I love and now he's gone it just sucks and, and…I wish I could’ve saved someone I loved just _once_. I would give my life to make sure he made it through that fight. In a heartbeat I would’ve chosen to stay gone. Even as Spider-Man, I couldn't do anything. I dunno it’s just, it’s just easier to have me gone knowing that he’s okay than live knowing he's gone. I don't…” He trails off and soaks up the tears dripping off his chin with his sweatshirt sleeve. Once he stops talking, he can't find the strength to start again. It takes all his willpower to hold back the sobs he can feel trapped in his chest.

“We both know Tony wouldn't have ever let that happen,” Pepper says empathetically. “He wouldn't take back what he did, because that’s the kind of person he was. He’d never let you give your life for him, he…” she steadies herself for what she’s about to say, “he loved you, Peter. He was so proud of you. The way he looked at Morgan was the same way I saw him look at you. You should’ve heard him talk about you. Gosh, I never heard him more proud of anyone in my life than when he would talk about how smart and selfless you are.” Peter sobs into his sweatshirt sleeve to not disturb anyone else on the subway, denting the metal stanchion under his fingers. “You’re just as much his kid as Morgan is.” That’s what simultaneously shatters and fills Peter’s heart. Hearing the words that Tony cared so much about him is all he has wanted to hear, but it's indescribably agonizing when he knows Tony isn't here to say the words himself. When Peter finally gets control over his emotions, he wipes his already swollen eyes and sniffs.

“Thanks, Pepper. That, that means a lot.” It's all he can say at the moment, but he means it with his whole being.

“Anytime. You hear me? If you ever need anything, I'm always here. Are you going to be okay if I go make Morgan lunch?” Pepper asks warily, just to make sure.

“Yeah, yeah of course. I'm actually headed to the Compound right now to work on the suit. Kind of,” Peter reassures her, but wonders if actually comes off that way.

“Okay, Happy will be there if you need anything. Tell May I miss her and that we need to spend more time together. Can’t wait to see you two for movie night. I'll text you when.” Pepper smiles warmly at the thought of all of them together as an extended family.

“I'll let her know. We’ll be there.” Peter nods affirmatively, even though he knows Pepper can't see the gesture. The inside of the subway train beeps out an alert before an automated voice reads out his stop.

“I'll let you go,” Pepper cuts in when she hears the automated voice on her end. “Stay safe out there, okay?”

“I will, promise. Thanks, Pepper. Go be the best mom,” he says genuinely, a ghost of a smile making itself visible.

“Thank you too, Peter. Talk to you soon, kid.” With that, she hangs up. Peter isn't sure if he feels full or empty, but he feels…something? Regardless of his inner turmoil, the subway train comes to a stop and people flood out as soon as the doors slide open. Peter slowly makes his way out and, once he's back on the streets, takes the rest of the short walk to the much more secluded Compound. When he reaches the Compound doors, ignoring the construction still going on around him to repair the remaining damage, he absentmindedly flashes his badge and the doors unlatch.

He uses the private elevator that he would ride in with Tony during his real Stark Internship, not the fake one. He hasn't been in it since before the weird aliens and flying donut ships attacked. Before he went to Space. Before Thanos. The mere thought of the name causes Peter’s hands to shake with anxiety. He takes a slow, calming breath.

“Welcome back, Peter.” If he had been paying better attention to his surroundings, he would’ve remembered that the entire Compound is run by a UI.

“Hey, Fri,” Peter tries to greet, but it comes out as more of a tired mumble.

“To the workshop?” F.R.I.D.A.Y. prompts without hesitation. Peter simply nods, sending the elevator into motion. The workshop is only a story lower than the main floor and is much more spacious than the one at the Tower used to be. When the elevator doors open, however, he just stands there. The workshop seems much larger than it had before. Much more…empty, without Tony there.

He slowly walks into the workshop, keeping his head lowered as to not see the holograms of past projects whirring to life. There's nothing about the workshop that sparks inspiration or passion anymore. He doesn't want to see the amazing blueprints he brainstormed for hours on with Tony that will be left unfinished. He especially doesn't want to get caught up in a downward spiral of emotions just from glancing at a mounted picture on the wall of his Stark Internship certificate. An award made specifically for him. Instead of being deterred by memories, he gets to work on a new suit.

It doesn't take much effort on his end, since he already knows his way around programming and engineering, but having an abundance of high-tech resources is what helps. Contrary to his usual red and blue theme, which all of his current suits are colored, he decides to go with a black and red color combo. He momentarily considers making the suit consist of nanotechnology, but quickly scraps the idea when it hits too close to home. A tougher spandex and latex combo should be good enough. He also considers having the fabric change color at Karen's command for a more stealthy approach, but ultimately decides that he could make a suit specifically designed for that. Now for the interior circuitry lining.

“I thought I asked you to let me know when you got here.” Peter briefly looks up from his task, flashlight in his mouth, and his eyes quickly find Happy's. Oh yeah, he was supposed to text Happy.

“Sorry, I forgot,” he murmurs with the flashlight between his teeth before turning back to his work. If he can just manage to get these tweezers to cooperate with maneuvering the capacitors…

“So,” Happy starts as he casually walks towards the hunched over teen, “how are you doing?” Peter involuntarily tenses at the question. _Why do people keep asking me that?_

“Decent,” he answers curtly. Happy, of course, instantly raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Holding in emotions isn't healthy,” he says matter-of-factly. “Grieving is natural, you're not alone in this and we all-”

“Can we not do this? Please? I don't wanna talk about it,” Peter interrupts. He takes the flashlight out of his mouth and gives Happy a tight lipped smile. “I had a talk with Mrs- Pepper,” he corrects, “and I'm already emotionally exhausted. I don't think I can have another one, Happy. I'm sorry.” Ignoring the way his voice cracks, Peter does his best to focus back on the wiring of his new suit. Happy sighs and decides to drag a nearby chair to sit beside the teen. Peter chooses not to acknowledge him.

“He did it for you.” The simple sentence causes Peter to freeze. He sets down the tweezers and slowly looks up at Happy.

“What?” Happy nods in confirmation, his gaze confident and unwavering.

“Everything he did to go back in time, was to bring you back,” he elaborates. Peter’s eyes narrow in confusion as he fully turns to face Happy.

“I, I don't understand. What do you…all of that? Just for me? I don't…” His forehead creases, trying to understand the new information.

“He wasn't going to do it. Told me himself. The only reason he kept trying was because he missed you.” Peter looks down at his lap where his hands are gripping his jeans. His vision blurs with tears, but they don't fall. “He went through with the whole thing because he knew he owed it to you to at least try. There wasn't a single thing he wouldn't do for you and he proved that when he risked everything to go back in time to get you back. That’s how much he cared about you… You know, he kept a framed photo of you two.” Peter’s head snaps up, the motion causing tears to fall down his cheeks.

“He did?” he asks, almost in a whisper.

“He did. That goofy one where you guys held your certificate upside down and did the ears.” Happy vaguely makes bunny ears and places them above his head to portray what he’s saying. “Took you both forever to take that picture,” he grumbles at the memory. Peter chuckles with just a hint of a smile. The smile quickly fades to a pain-ridden frown, his chin wobbling.

“I miss him so much,” his voice cracks on the last word as he devolves into sobs. He cries with his sleeve covered hands over his mouth to keep himself somewhat quiet, but the wracking sobs continue with each labored breath. He didn't want to do this. Not today. He doesn't want to feel the pain. A firm hand attaches to his shoulder.

“Don't hold it in, Peter. It’s okay,” Happy softly assures. He stands and walks closer to Peter so that the kid has a shoulder to cry on. “He loved you. Never think he didn't.” Happy takes a deep breath as he slowly rubs Peter’s back. Peter just allows himself to enjoy the comfort. “I miss him too. I don't think he would’ve done what he did if he didn't know that you were gonna be here after he was gone.” The admission of Tony loving and having faith in him only makes Peter’s chest ache more. He should’ve savored the hug longer after being brought back instead of being confused. He should’ve enjoyed it while it lasted because now…now Tony’s gone and he’ll never be able to hug him like that again…

An idea forces its way into Peter’s grieving mind.

Tony never gave up on him, he went _back in time_ for Peter. So…why is he giving up on Tony? If Tony can collect some magical stones through time to prevent him from literally turning to dust, why can't he bring him back?

Peter suddenly sits up straight as the thought dawns on him, effectively startling Happy with his movement. Happy stares at him with wide, questioning eyes.

“Can I stay the night?” Peter questions eagerly, tears forgotten.

“Excuse me?” Every time Happy thinks he has this kid figured out, he pulls something like this.

“Maybe a few days?” Peter continues obliviously. Happy blinks at him.

“We were having a nice moment, if you weren't aware,” Happy points out curtly.

“I'll ask May!” Peter offers as if it's the most simple thing in the world.

“Do what you want. Have at it.” Happy stressfully rubs his forehead and waves Peter off.

“Thanks, Happy!” Peter thanks with enthusiasm. He hops off the chair and grabs his phone out of his pocket. Happy decides to leave the odd teen to do his own thing since he's suddenly so determined.

“I'm gonna head out,” he states with a raised eyebrow.

“See ya!” is all Peter says in response, his hyper focus kicking in as he types on his phone. Happy takes that as his cue to leave and skeptically walks towards the elevator.

“I'm feeling very underappreciated right now!” Happy calls over his shoulder.

“You're the best!” Peter assures without hesitation. “Couldn't have done it without you, Hap!”

_“Happy_ _,”_ the grumpy man corrects as the elevator doors close in front of him. Now, Peter just has to get to work on his plan. He’s going to get Tony back and he’ll be damned if he doesn't do it one way or another. He won't give up on Tony. Not again.

After sending May a quick text that he’ll be spending a day or two…or three at the Compound, and that she’s more than welcome to come visit when she isn't busy at the ER, he gets to work. There was something he had been working on for the last few months with Tony, but they never quite got around to cracking it. Now, he isn't going to stop day or night until he figures it out.

That’s exactly what he does. He works nonstop for the next two days and nights without falter. May comes to visit him more than a few times, her parental instinct taking over. She doesn't distract him, for fear of throwing off his flow, but she stays in the general vicinity to keep him company. There are a few times where Peter talks to her to get a thought process going, until he connects the dots and gets back to work. To be perfectly honest, May has no idea what Peter is trying to accomplish. Instead of trying to figure it out, she just chalks it up to a coping mechanism for grief and lets him work it out.

It’s either May, Pepper, or Happy, whoever is in the area, who brings him meals. At first, Peter is too caught up in his work to take breaks for such trivial things as sleeping or eating. May lets the lack of sleeping slide, since she knows the teen barely gets any sleep as it is, but there's no way on God’s green Earth that she would let him skip meals. Not with his metabolism.

Peter starts to feel like he's going out of his mind, searching for something that might not even be there. No, he can't start doubting himself now. He has to keep going for Tony, like Tony kept going for him.

It took forty-nine hours. Forty-nine hours to find exactly what he was looking for and another five hours for him to come up with a way to harness it. He remembered that Rhodey mentioned some type of particles that the Avengers used to go back in time to save half the universe. Rummaging through some boxes, Peter manages to find empty vials that once contained the so-called Pym Particles. That should do the trick. If it could hold those particles, it can hold these new particles.

_Wait,_ Peter thinks as he flicks the high-tech vial open, _if this Pym guy got to name the particles after himself, does that mean I get to call these Parker Particles? Has a nice ring to it, if I do say so myself._ The vial seems to suck in the isolated particles and successfully contain them. After fifty-four hours of nonstop work, using scanning probe microscopes and some of the world’s most advanced technological imaging, having the particles funneled from the scanning probe microscope into the vial in mere seconds almost blows his mind. He inspects the now bright blue, illuminated vial in his hand before carefully pocketing it. Now for step two.

When May enters the workshop with a tray of breakfast for her nephew, she's met with an empty room. She's about to panic when she notices a piece of scrap paper taped to the workbench that reads:

****

**Gonna go see a friend! Be back soon! -Peter**

****

Peter really wishes he had brought his suit when he realizes he has make his way all the way back to New York City. Instead of taking an hour and a half long bus ride back into the city, he ignores the mild tingling at the base of his skull to call for the Iron Spider suit. Instead, it only takes him a half an hour of speedy web slinging to make it to his destination: the Sanctum Sanctorum.

In Peter's opinion, the name “Sanctum Sanctorum” is pretty self-centered, considering it's Latin for “Holy of Holies.” _If Dr. Strange thinks a mansion in New York City is the Holiest Place, all that magic must be turning his brain to mush,_ Peter casually notes as he crawls up the side of the three story building. His four metal appendages tink on the glass as he climbs.

“Yoo-hoo! Dr. Strange sir!” Peter tries to call through the large, circular window with odd detailing as he knocks on the glass. He distantly wonders which architect chose to make it look like an eye. “Are you home?! Why do you need such a big window?! Hello?!” he continues to yell. Suddenly, a familiar portal with bright orange sparks is conjured in front of him and he’s forced to fall through. With a yelp of surprise, he falls towards the ground and is able to land on his feet in a wide stance. He looks up to see Dr. Strange standing expectantly in his usual wizard get-up, his arms crossed. Peter straightens up when his Spidey Sense doesn't warn him of danger.

“Hey there! Dr. Strange. Sir. It’s Peter Parker. Spider-Man. I don't know if you remember me, but we met on a flying doughnut ship in outer space last week. Well, people said that was five years ago but I’m still wrapping my head around that, it’s so cra-”

“What do you want?” Dr. Strange practically demands, his face devoid of any emotion. If he had seen anyone other than Peter, he wouldn't have bothered with the smalltalk before using a portal to send them away. Instead, for some reason, he feels obligated to humor the kid.

“Right! Well, y’see, I kinda- Do you always wear that outfit?” Peter asks, momentarily distracted as his eyes flicker down at Dr. Strange’s navy blue clothing. “Do you wear the same one or do you have, like, a bunch of the same outfit? ‘Cause either way, that’s concerning. I mean, you still only have one cloak. Hey, where _is_ the cloak?” He stands on his tiptoes before using his mechanical spider appendages to lift him off the ground so that he can peek over the wizard’s shoulder. His mechanical lenses widen slightly with his own as he tries to get a better look.

“It doesn't deem you a threat,” Dr. Strange replies simply. At that, Peter’s eyes widen even more.

“I'm threatening!” he squeaks in defense.

“Peter. Focus.” Dr. Strange doesn't have the patience for these types of wake-up calls, it’s a wonder how he has any patience at all right now.

“Right, sorry. I ramble when I'm anxious.” Peter swallows thickly and chuckles as he wrings his hands together. His mask automatically deconstructs itself, causing his hair to floof out. Dr. Strange takes in the teen’s disheveled and obvious sleep deprived face. “You have magic, right? So you can just,” he vaguely portrays someone rising from the dead by hunching his shoulders and sticking his arms out in front of him, “revive Mr. Stark! Easy as that!” Dr. Strange narrows his eyes and shifts on his feet, not quite knowing what to say. He had expected Peter asking him to help with a Spider-Man related issue but this is…admittedly not that surprising either. Grief can do many things to the mind, especially at the stage of denial.

“Peter,” he starts, choosing his words very carefully, “you don't understand. To even consider something like that would take a significant amount of energy that neither of us posse- where did you get that?” He cuts himself off when Peter holds up a small flask pulsing with blue energy.

“It’s what Mr. Stark and I were trying to research before the…um, y’know, and we got _so_ close. We thought it could be a type of clean, limitless energy in the form of particles. So I spent the last, like, two days finding a way to convince myself they were even real and then I had to harness it into this thingy to make it portable. I don't think it’s limitless, but the particles could really help us out with this! I'm thinking of calling them Parker Particles. Is that too self-centered? I mean, Dr. Pym apparently named the Pym Particles after himself so…” Peter repeats his previous thoughts until he’s more or less out of breath.

“We can't,” Dr. Strange urges without remorse. Peter’s eyebrows are lowered and drawn together, an almost pained look taking over his facial features.

“But, you said with the necessary energy we could…” he trails off. Dr. Strange sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, noticing how desperate Peter looks.

“It was his time, Peter.” They're the last words that Peter wants to hear. He’s stunned speechless as he tries to process the words of denial.

“No.” He shakes his head to himself, not wanting to believe it. His confused emotions decide to settle on anger instead of hopelessness or despair. “No, don't you feed me that crap.” He clenches his jaw as he stares down the man.

“You don't get to decide who lives and dies,” Dr. Strange borderline scolds in a much more stern tone.

“You don't get to either!” Peter snaps, his frustration starting to bleed through into his raised voice. He balls his fists at his sides, shaking in both anguish and fury. As quickly as the raw emotion had appeared, it seeps out of him and shifts to pure sadness. Dr. Strange watches with contemplative eyes. Perhaps even conflicted. “What if, what if I still need him?” Peter forces himself to choke out the truthful words. “What about Pepper and, and Morgan. You can't stand here and tell me that it was his time to go when he left behind an entire family that still needs him.” He takes a shaky breath, his unwavering gaze locked on the silently observing man.

“It’s not as simple as you think,” Dr. Strange continues calmly, but Peter shakes his head.

“All you did was just listen to that glowy, green stone that said Mr. Stark had to die for us to win.” Peter takes a breath as he looks to the floor. “We didn't win…” he whispers, remembering the words he said to Tony as he was dying. “We can't win if we lose Tony!” Angry tears race down Peter’s cheeks as he presses his lips together. When he feels the tears, he roughly wipes them away. Dr. Strange takes another deep breath accompanied by the roll of his eyes at the kid’s emotional state. His entire unconvinced demeanor is counterintuitive to what he says next.

“I'm going to regret this,” he admits in a low grumble. The words cause Peter to look up at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“You’ll help?” Peter asks in mild disbelief. Dr. Strange resists the urge to deny him. He can't back out now after he just confirmed that he would in fact help.

“I don't think this is something that can be solved entirely by the Mystic Arts.” He holds out his hand expectantly and Peter is quick to hand over the particles. “You essentially have battery that won't give out until the universe inevitably does.”

“Inevitably?”

“Therefore,” the doctor continues without hesitation, “you need something for it to power.” He tosses the vial back to Peter, who catches it without so much as thinking.

“Well…power what?” Peter pushes.

“You're the proclaimed ‘kid-genius,’ figure it out. Build something. Fix it,” Dr. Strange explains simply.

“That doesn't automatically mean I know how to bring back the dead!” Peter defends incredulously. Dr. Strange considers his limited options, hating the way he wants to ignore all of his teachings to help.

“There’s this…” he searches for the right word, “spell, for lack of a better term. I haven't used it in a while and it didn't go exactly as planned the first time. Your so-called Parker Particles take care of the energy problem, but I’ll need combine healing with the revival. Otherwise, he’d just be undead and die from the same injury twice over. If that doesn't become the problem, the amount of energy we’re using could have adverse effects on him.” Peter stands still and listens intently with his eyes wide in awe.

“Woah…you _are_ a wizard,” he realizes breathlessly.

“I'm a sorcerer,” Dr. Strange corrects monotonously, as if he has had to correct others many times.

“And you called them Parker Particles!” Peter says even more excitedly, a grin on his face.

“Not mister, not sir, not master, and especially not _wizard_. Dr. Strange or Sorcerer Supreme,” Dr. Strange recites tersely, but Peter is no longer paying attention. Peter appears to be lost in thought. Something about what Dr. Strange said sparks an idea. It might just work too, if Peter can get the assembly right. “What?” the _sorcerer_ prompts. The wheels continue to turn in Peter’s head until he abruptly straightens up.

“Like you said, we have the energy, right? And plenty of it! So we just need a way to, to dampen it and somehow concentrate it. That way we aren't exposing Mr. Stark to a lot of the particles and it gives your magic the oomph that it needs!” he exclaims with determination practically emanating off of him.

“Yes…” Dr. Strange crosses his arms and waits for Peter to elaborate. When the teen doesn't, he adds, “I'm not following.” Peter licks his lips in preparation for his long winded explanation, raising his hands to accentuate his words, but Dr. Strange interrupts before he can even start. “Short version.” Peter huffs, but complies.

“What if I could make a machine, a Particle Condenser of sorts, that can amplify your magic spell-thingy. We can infuse the Parker Particles into it to enhance the spell, then filter a majority of the particles back out so they don't hurt Mr. Stark! That just leaves all the good stuff, right? Hypothetically.” Dr. Strange carefully contemplates the situation and the possible solutions before stating,

“Hypothetically.” With Dr. Strange’s agreement, Peter smiles.

“Okay, awesome! Okay, um, I can get to work on that at the Compound workshop and I should be able to get it done pretty quick? I think? All I really have to do is-”

“Less talking more doing,” Dr. Strange cuts off his rambling. “Am I supposed to casually go grave robbing?” he implores with a raised eyebrow.

“Actually, Mr. Stark, uh, donated his body to science. NYU.” Peter looks down and smiles sadly to himself. Even in death, Tony is trying to help further science and knowledge. Dr. Strange slowly nods in understanding.

“Alright, that means they’ve at least kept him preserved. I’ll handle it. You get started on the condenser.” Peter stands up straighter and salutes the doctor.

“Can do, Dr. Sorcerer Supreme!” Dr. Strange stares at him, most likely trying to see if the kid is joking or not. When he gets no reaction, he raises both his arms and moves one in a circular fashion to open a portal.

“I'm already regretting this,” he mutters as he steps through. The Cloak of Levitation flies into the room, through the portal, and drapes itself around Dr. Strange’s shoulders. Peter quickly points to the copper colored sparks.

“Are you gonna open one for me too? Cause it’s kind of a long swing-” His Spidey Sense lightly buzzes before the floor suddenly disappears from beneath his feet. He lands in the workshop that looks the same as when he left it. “Back…” he finishes lamely, looking around. “Thank you!” he calls out, even though he knows full well that Dr. Strange can't hear him. As Peter lets the Iron Spider suit deconstruct itself, he sees a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon on the corner of the workbench. He mentally thanks whoever brought it down and gets to work while mumbling, “Wizards are so grumpy.”

It takes another thirteen hours for Peter to apply all his knowledge on subatomic particles and mechanical engineering to roughly finish something good enough for the job. The revival. _That sounds so weird. Like a bad, stereotypical sci-fi plot,_ Peter thinks absentmindedly as he stares at the machine. It’s the best he could do with what he had in the workshop, which was admittedly a lot.

The Particle Condenser is about the size of a generator and is taller than him as it sits on the workbench. He may have taken some other machines and gadgets to repurpose them for the Particle Condenser. It helps that he used to dumpster dive, this combined with going to Midtown helps him with being knowledgeable around technology. Plus, he has always been told he’s a genius, even though he doesn't necessarily agree. Everyone else can see it though. He just hopes it’ll be enough. Once again, he dawns the Iron Spider suit.

“Karen, can you let Dr. Strange know we’re ready?” he asks his supportive AI. Her response is immediate, as always.

“Of course,” Karen affirms. Mere seconds pass before a portal appears out of thin air. A gurney with a white sheet placed over it to obscure a body is first rolled through, followed by Dr. Strange calmly walking in. Once he’s through, he closes the portal behind him.

“Is, is that…” Peter trails off, nodding to the gurney. His heart hammers against his chest, though he’s not sure why it’s affecting him so much. Dr. Strange looks to the body, then back to Peter.

“No, it’s Elvis,” the doctor answers sarcastically. “Of course it’s Stark. And relax, he’s fully clothed. Let’s get on with this.” That’s Peter’s cue to get preparing everything. He rushes to the Particle Condenser and starts powering it up.

“This thing right here,” he points at the front of the Particle Condenser that resembles that of a stereo drum, “is part of one of Mr. Stark’s old Sonic Cannons. It was used to shoot compressed sound waves, so it should be great for releasing the condensed magic after it’s been filtered.” After explaining that aspect, he shifts to point near the middle of the device. “This is the filter where the magic will be forced through and the Parker Particles will be stripped away in the process. I got it from-”

“All I need to know is where to cast the magic,” Dr. Strange cuts Peter short, his patience growing thin.

“Right, of course. Silly me.” Peter laughs nervously before walking around the table. He gestures to the end that faces away from where the gurney is. “This should be able to funnel all the magic energy you put out. You’ll…shoot? Is that the right wording? Anyways, you’ll shoot your magic through this. Don't worry if it doesn't filter right away. It should build up until it gets enough energy to open the channels and be forced through the filter. Like the all-or-none law in cells, you gotta reach a threshold first,” Peter rapidly explains. His nerves are starting to take over and he’s getting restless. _It has to work. It has to. It can't not work. If it doesn't…we lose Mr. Stark forever. What am I gonna tell Pepper and May I’ve been working on if it doesn't? I can't tell them I tried to bring Mr. Stark back and failed…_

“Are you sure you’ll have a way to power the Particle Condenser itself?” Dr. Strange’s pertinent voice pulls Peter from his anxiety-riddled thoughts. “I noticed you have all the particles in the machine.” Peter smiles knowingly before going to position the gurney more in the direct path of the Particle Condenser.

“Oh, don't worry, that’s what extension cords and arc reactors are for. Remember the plan, F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he double checks just in case.

“Everything's ready when you are, Peter,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. confirms as Peter walks back to Dr. Strange.

“Okay, I don't exactly know how these particles work yet so we could only have one shot at this,” Peter urges seriously. “I’ll double check all the cables and then you can, uh, do whatever it is you’re gonna do with the magic.” He gives an unamused Dr. Strange two thumbs up before making sure all the extension cables are connected.

“Are you sure about this?” Dr. Strange asks, getting his hands into the correct positioning for the coupled healing and revival spell. All Peter does is nod, standing off to the side. _Can't turn back now, even if I wanted to._

The doctor nods in return and starts to utter incantations under his breath. Purple rings of runes begin to form around his hands, runes that Peter couldn't decipher even if he tried. The inner rings start to bleed into an icy blue color, most likely showing how the spells are being combined. As the magic circle grows, sweat starts to bead on Dr. Strange’s forehead and his hands begin to shake as he keeps the spell contained.

“Ready?” he calls through gritted teeth. Peter’s Iron Spider mask forms around his face for protection.

“Ready! Fri, divert all power!” At Peter’s command, Dr. Strange unleashes the force of the spell in a controlled beam and all the compound lights go out. The room is lit only by a Dr. Strange’s beam of magic and a purple glow as the spell’s energy builds up inside the Particle Condenser. It continues to glow brighter, almost to the point where it’s blinding, until the energy is forced through the condenser in one fell swoop. An astonishingly massive shockwave is sent throughout the room as the energy pulses out of the condenser and directly at the gurney.

Dr. Strange is almost knocked off his feet entirely, but maintains his balance despite his stumbling. Peter’s metal appendages grip the floor so that he isn't pushed back by the shockwave either. As soon as the energy dissipates, the lights flicker back on and Peter rushes over to the gurney, both his mask and appendages retracting. He carefully hovers his hands over the sheet, not knowing what to do or when to breathe.

“C’mon, Mr. Stark,” he whispers hopefully. His eyes scan the sheet, but remains unmoving. “C’mon. Wake up. Please, Mr. Stark wake up! Get up!” He yells frantically as the panic starts to seep in. He closely listens for a heartbeat…but hears nothing. “No! You don't get to do this again! You can't! It’s not _fair!”_ Hot, rage-fueled tears stream down his face as he rockets his fist into the concrete floor. The concrete breaks around his fist, creating a cracked dent in the floor. Then, all fight gone from his body, he drops to his knees. He feels a hand on his shoulder, but doesn't look up.

“For what it’s worth,” Dr. Strange starts, his tone surprisingly gentle, “I really am sor-” A loud gasp cuts him off, causing both of their heads to whip up to the gurney in shock. The gurney shakes as Tony shoots up, gasping for air and holding his chest as if he hasn't ever breathed a day in his life. There’s a tint of color to his cheeks and a thin layer of sweat on his forehead.

“Oh god, he's back,” Dr. Strange mutters in disbelief. Tony's head snaps in the direction of the voice and stares at Dr. Strange, absolutely stunned. Peter, however, can't find it in him to move. He’s frozen in a mix of doubt and astoundment. He's almost afraid that if he gets his hopes up, something bad will happen right before his eyes.

“What the hell just happened?” Tony demands, still breathless. He grips his hair in his fists, then locks eyes with Peter’s watery ones. “Kid, why are you crying?” _Kid._ Peter scrambles to his feet. “Did that wizard jerk make you cry? ‘Cause I swear I’ll-” Tony is cut off by Peter's arms tightly wrapping around his neck. Peter trembles as he does his best to hold back hiccuping cries and makes sure his hug is secure.

“Please, don't go.” His voice shakes with emotion. “I don't wanna lose you again, Sir. We can't go through that. I can't go through that.” He hides his damp face in Tony's warm shoulder, resisting the urge to sob. Tony finally gets his bearings and, with a shaky breath, firmly hugs Peter back.

“I'm not going anywhere,” he reassures the kid. He takes in everything he couldn't while they were on the battlefield, allowing himself to enjoy the hug. With tear-filled eyes of his own, he rubs Peter’s back in the most comforting way he can and lets his other hand hold the back of Peter’s head.

“I, I missed you so much,” Peter chokes out between cries. Tony holds him tighter and tries to keep the tears at bay.

“I missed you too. So damn much,” he admits. “You have no idea.” He subconsciously listens to the kid’s breathing to make sure he's doing just that. Breathing. Living. What he doesn't realize is that Peter is doing the same thing. Peter makes sure he can hear the way Tony’s heart quickly beats in his chest. He's alive. They did it. A tear slips out of Tony’s eye and he wonders why he’s holding the emotions back at all. He lets the tears fall freely and presses a kiss to Peter’s temple. The action makes Peter cry harder, but it fills him with love. He grips the back of Tony’s shirt and hopes that he never has to let go.

“I'm so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter whispers, his chest aching.

“Hey, none of that. No blame game here. And what's with that ‘Mr. Stark’ bullshit? Don't think I forgot that you called me Tony. No take-backs,” Tony scolds, trying desperately to appease the kid’s enormous guilt complex. He continues to rub Peter’s back encouragingly.

“I gave, I gave up on you. I'm _so_ sorry. You didn't give up on me and, and you went back in time for me. But I, but I gave up.” Peter hates being at odds with his emotions, especially two extremes like joy and guilt.

“Doesn't look like you gave up to me,” Tony points out.

“I couldn't save you out there. I tried to be there, but I, I still messed up and I lost you.” Tony rests his cheek on the top of Peter’s head.

“I wasn't looking to be saved, kiddo,” he says honestly, “I knew the consequences. It's not your fault.” His tone is soft and quiet.

“I'm sorry…” Peter repeats, adjusting his grip on Tony’s shirt.

“I'm here, Pete. Because of _you._ And a wizard but we’ll deal with him later.” Tony lifts his hand to wave the subject off, but keeps running his other hand through Peter’s hair. “You need a shower too, kid. Your hair is greasy and you stink to high heaven.” Tony places his hands on Peter’s shoulders and tenderly pulls him back so he can get a good look at him. The kid looks absolutely wrecked, but what catches Tony’s attention is the way he quickly averts his eyes. “Nope, eyes up here,” Tony gently orders. Peter’s red, glossy eyes meet his mentor's. His father-figure. His family. Tony doesn't hesitate to put his hands on either side of Peter’s face and wipe both tear tracks with his thumbs. He doesn't move his hands. He needs to say this, because he didn't get to say it the last time when he knows he should have. “I am so proud of you. Not just Spider-Man, but the person you are. You, Peter Parker, inspire me everyday to be a better person. I wouldn't take back what I did, especially if it meant you and Pepper and Morgan and the whole gosh darn family were safe. I'm sorry if I was shitty at showing it. I love you more than words can express and that’s not gonna change.” Peter's chin wobbles and more tears flow over Tony’s thumbs. Peter nods as he absorbs the sudden confession, his brain still catching up.

“I love you too, Tony.” He leans forward again and Tony protectively cradles the kid’s head to his chest. Tony silently thanks Dr. Strange for his contribution, already piecing together that he and Peter worked together to bring him back. Dr. Strange nods, opening a portal and quietly slipping through. “I didn't know how I was gonna make it through losing someone again,” Peter admits in a quiet, defeated voice. Tony can't help but tighten the hug, praying to whatever’s out there that it gives him more time to be with his family.

“I have faith in you, kid. You would’ve made it ‘cause your strong. And you would've made an amazing Spider-Man with or without me. The world still needed you, so it wasn't a hard choice. I knew you’d be here.” Tony looks down to smile at Peter affectionately, not an ounce of regret evident on his face. “As a very wise person once told me, you can't be a friendly, neighborhood Spider-Man if there’s no neighborhood.” Peter meets Tony’s eyes, and slowly musters a smile. Tony thought he’d never see that smile again.

“So it did make sense?”

“Oh yeah, definitely, but I wasn't gonna tell _you_ that. Besides, if you can't do your job without a neighborhood, imagine trying to get work done without half the universe,” Tony casually points out with the shrug of his shoulders. Peter playfully rolls his eyes as he shakes his head, but no matter how hard he tries he wouldn't be able to hide his pure happiness.

“Daddy!” Morgan comes running into the workshop as fast as her little feet can carry her. Peter releases Tony from their hug just in time for Morgan to leap into her father’s arms.

“Hey there, Little Miss!” he laughs, sitting her on his hip. He brushes the crazy hair out of her face to see her bright, toothy grin. Just seeing her face brings him to tears all over again. God, he loves his kids.

“All the lighth wen’ out and the whole plathe thook and mommy got really thcared and there wath a big boom and I hadda come theck.” Morgan’s explanation goes a million miles a minute. Tony, however, maintains his smile and listens patiently as his daughter rambles.

“Morgan! What on Earth are you-” a voice yells, causing Tony’s head to snap towards the entrance. Peter crosses his arms comfortably and leans against the table with a knowing smile. No one can mistake that voice. Pepper slows to a stop upon entering the workshop, not sure if she should believe in what she sees. “Oh my god,” Pepper puts her hand over her mouth, her eyes already welling with tears.

“You shouldn't run headfirst into danger or you’ll scare mommy. She’s very sensitive,” Tony teases Morgan, tickling her sides to make her giggle. Pepper looks from Tony to Peter, not failing to notice his red eyes.

“Is…is this what you've been…” she asks Peter, who simply nods as if it’s no big deal.

“Guilty,” Peter rasps out with a sniffle. Pepper presses her lips together and nods, tears falling down her cheeks. She slowly walks closer and places a careful hand on Tony’s cheek as if he’ll disappear any second. Of course, he smiles that lopsided smile.

“So, did I miss our anniversary? I have a feeling you might know what I got you.” He rests his forehead on hers. “You looked badass in that suit, by the way. I'm gonna count that as a win.” Pepper laughs breathlessly and closes her eyes to take in the moment. May isn't far behind, walking to stand by Peter as the touching scene unfolds. She lightly rubs Peter’s back and Peter leans his head on her shoulder.

“You did a good job,” May praises, as proud as she could possibly be.

“Thanks, May.” Peter soaks up every last drop of the most important people in his life being together.

“You risked everything to save my kid,” May speaks up, effectively getting Tony’s attention. “I can't ever tell you how much that means to me. Thank you,” she says genuinely.

“Of course, I’d do it again,” Tony states truthfully, holding his family close in his arms. “Well, I’m starving. How about we head up for some food?” he offers as he sets Morgan down.

“Cheetheburger!” Morgan exclaims as she runs back out of the workshop. Pepper kisses Tony’s cheek before running after their maniac of a daughter. May jogs after the pair to help Pepper out with toddler duty and making lunch if she needs it. Tony and Peter follow the rowdy bunch at a slow pace. Tony places a firm hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“You're gonna have to tell me all about how you got me back without turning me into a zombie or a vampire,” he prompts with a smirk. Peter immediately brightens up.

“I actually used those hyper-kinetic particles we were researching! I built this machine to amplify Dr. Strange’s magic infused the Parker Particles…” As Peter continues to ramble about his findings, Tony simply listens and stares at how animated and alive the kid is. His kid. He looks at Peter with the most loving, heartfelt, adoringly devoted eyes. There isn't anything in the world he wouldn't do for his family.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope it helped with your grief <3
> 
> Twitter: @Kevy_Fanfics & @kevy_grayce  
> Insta: @kevy_fanfics & @KevyGrayce


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